


Not A Clue

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Not Oblivious, Castiel is a Tease, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Pining Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean won't give in to what he wants. Cas gets tired of it and is a tease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Clue

Dean should have known better than to think he had the answer for everything. Or anything, really. Life had proved to him beyond a doubt that he was, in fact, clueless about so many things.

Take Cas. Well yes, Dean thought to himself, blatantly watching the pull of muscle beneath Cas’ shirt as he reached over to grab the ketchup, he would happily take Cas in every which way possible, and ways he hadn't even thought of yet. Even in ways like, ye gods, falling asleep together. Holding his hand whilst driving. Running his hand through that  _ I wish you’d been the one to have given me this bed hair  _ -hair whilst watching a movie.

Cas. Who had made his knees turn to jelly and his reasoning to putty from their first meeting, even if he hadn't known what those feelings had meant at the time. Who had saved him, and stood by him, and, okay, let him down a few times along the way too but hey, who was he to judge?

Cas. Who, for the love of all that is holy, leaned out of the booth and picked up a child’s rattle that they had dropped, giving Dean an excellent view of his taut skin as his shirt rode up in the process.

Cas.

Cas seemed to be his only occupying thought.

So it was time to man up. Do something. Pin Cas against the next available flat surface and kiss him silly so he didn't have to use actual words.

He’d not quite come up with the perfect plan yet.

But it was just a question of getting it right.

Dean had thought of a thousand scenarios, including detailed responses and meticulously planned possible endings, for telling Cas how he felt. He wasn't a romantic gesture guy, although he knew for certain he’d do whatever he could to make Cas happy once he was his to make happy. Neither was he going to assume Cas would swoon in his arms just because he had suggested it. He had to find the one and only perfect way to do this, or not do it at all, and keep this...pining secret indefinitely.

Keeping it secret would kill him though. Actually kill him by eating away at his every conscious thought and steer them off a cliff by accident when checking Cas out in the mirror.

So he had to do something.

But like all the best laid plans and not-so-secrets, life conspired and was very forcefully nudging his hand.

Today was proving tortuous.

He cast his mind back to the morning. Dean had gone into Cas’ room to wake him early, and he’d sat on the edge of the bed, shaking him gently by the shoulder. His hand had remained there long after Cas’ eyes had blearily opened, pinning him with an early morning gaze. Dean had eventually muttered something about breakfast and left the room abruptly.

When Dean had pressed a cup of coffee into his hand, Cas’ fingers had deliberately brushed out to touch his in a way that made Dean lose his grip and bring his other hand up to wrap around Cas’ to keep the cup from slipping. Cas had also stood hip to hip with him by the sink as they washed up after breakfast, as though there were not enough counter space for them to stand any other way. They had only stepped away from each other following a subtle clearing of the throat by Sam. Who looked at Dean knowingly with a sly grin that made Dean want to sink through the floor.

He should have known it was going to be a hellish kind of day from then on.

By 10am, Cas had given his best death glare to the flirty shop owner Dean was questioning, stepping just that little bit forward into a position that clearly said  _ mine _ .

By eleven, Dean had rested a hand low on Cas’ hip as he reached around him at the gas station, wiggling a candy bar under his nose.

Whilst waiting to be seated for lunch, Cas accidentally  _ look-at-me-I'm-so-innocent  _ brushed, actually brushed his ass up against Dean to let someone get past them, then stood there, lingering for far too long to be anything but teasing.

And now here they were at lunch with the  _ flashing of that skin _ . Really, Dean scolded himself, you should not be fixating on something so insignificant, but the thought of touching Cas just there where his shirt had ridden up made Dean bunch his fists under the table and fight the urge to sit on his hands.

He stomped out of the diner closely followed by Cas, leaving Sam to use the bathroom and pay. The moment they got to the car, Dean crowded into Cas’ space and leaned into him, one hand propped against the side of the car with barely a breath between them. Dean forgot that he hadn't even thought of a legitimate excuse for what he was doing either. Cas’ gaze stayed firmly on Dean’s lips until Sam appeared from not-nowhere and poured a metaphorical bucket of ice water on them both by climbing into the car and pointedly slamming the door.

Another heated gaze and the moment passed, both of them sliding into their respective seats, and avoiding-not avoiding looking at each other in the mirror on the drive home.

Dean enjoyed the cases closer to home because it meant he could wake up and fall asleep in the same place, and he still hadn't gotten over the novelty of that yet. Home was somehow even better now that Cas was a more permanent feature there. There was something very reassuring knowing that even if Cas did disappear from time to time, he always came back. He always came  _ home _ . Even if his proximity was frustrating in all manner of ways and far too many of the showers Dean had nowadays were set to ice cold.

Speaking of showers, Dean thought to himself, now seemed like a good a time as any. Cas had disappeared after dinner and Dean had been torn between following him or hoping he’d find his way back at some point. After an hour or so of procrastinating and disappointment in both himself and Cas, he dragged himself from the couch.

When he walked into the shower block he could hear water running in one of the cubicles. He froze, knowing without a doubt that it would be Cas.

Sure enough, when the water shut off, Cas stepped out of the shower, towelling his hair dry and wearing absolutely nothing. Which is what you’d expect from someone getting out of the shower, but the sight of all that glistening skin had kind of turned Dean into all sorts of stupid. He stood, slack jawed and frozen to the spot as Cas continued to dry himself, securing the towel around his hips when he was done.

And then he turned to Dean.

Dean expected embarrassment, or nonchalance, or pretty much anything other than Cas walking steadily towards him, backing him up against a wall and pinning him there, chest to chest. Dean’s hands hung limply by his sides, willing his heart to calm its pounding and other... parts… of him not to leap up screaming  _ notice me! notice me!  _ in reaction.

Cas continued to stare silently, breathing in time with Dean. His fingers pressed against the wall, skimming Dean’s sides but not quite touching. And then just like that, he was gone, arching an eyebrow and stalking out of the room.

Dean stood there dumbly for a moment and then fumbled out of his clothes, tripping over his boots and taking possibly the quickest shower he’d ever taken.

Once back in his room, Dean dressed rapidly in boxers and a t shirt, and before fear could stop him, marched out of the room and over into Cas’ without so much as a knock.

Cas stood, arms crossed and clothes mirroring Dean’s, with an expression that said nothing but  _ what took you so long _ .

There was a beat, perhaps two, and then they flew at each other, a tangle of limbs and mouths, falling onto Cas’ bed in an unsteady heap.

Hours later, or perhaps days, Dean’s mind couldn't quite work it out, they surfaced long enough to get food, and water, and shit-eating grins from Sam in passing. They then returned to Cas’ bed for round two. Or ten. Who cares about numbers when you've got the thing you've been longing for for eternity literally there in your hands?

So no, Dean was happy to admit to himself some time later, he did not have a clue about anything. He didn't have the right words to say, and he certainly hadn't had the moves to get things, well, moving, between him and Cas.

But, he thought to himself, skin shivering in excitement at the predatory and somewhat smug look on Cas’ face as he leaned over him again, he was more than okay with being clueless.

  
  
  



End file.
